


always darkest before dawn

by CyrusBreeze



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Everything Hurts, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: With a little support from her friends and family, Vic learns to deal with everything that Lucas left behind.orThe average human pregnancy lasts for 280 days. Grief lasts a lot longer than that.





	always darkest before dawn

**Author's Note:**

> So, last Thursday fucking broke me. This is my way of trying to fix it. I wrote this is about 36 hours, so it's probably not great. It's definitely unbeta'd, and I'm sorry for that. But I needed to process my grief. I'm so angry and upset about the end of Vicley. It literally broke me into tiny little pieces, and everything hurts. 
> 
> I wrote this instead of studying for my neuroscience final. (I need at least a 78 for a B and a 96 for an A, so I should be studying."

**Day 3**

The baby is cute. 

He’s got a head full of red hair and his eyes are huge and blue. 

He’s got his hands in the bowl of yogurt in front his high chair, and he’s giggling gleefully. 

The baby looks up, and Vic waves. 

The baby waves back, sticky fingers and all. Then, he returns to the mess he’s making on his plate. 

Vic grins wide. 

Lucas follows her gaze across the diner, and he too smiles when he sees the baby. 

“Have you ever thought about it?” Vic asks after a long moment. “Kids?” 

Lucas shrugs. “My parents died during Laura and I’s first year of marriage,” he says. “Jen was only 11, so we had already had a kid to focus on and then we got divorced and... Eva and I weren’t together long enough to really think about kids. And then I was married to work, and I didn’t have time to think about...” he trails off. “I mean, I’ve got my niece and nephew, and Zoey and Liam are just absolutely incredible.” Lucas pauses his rambling. “Do _you_ want them?” He asks. 

Vic pauses. She hadn’t really thought about it much. Kids. That was... they were a lot of responsibility, and so early in her career. It was, well, it was a lot. 

“He’s cute,” Vic says, gesturing toward the baby. 

“You’re cute, Eggy,” Lucas says. He’s grinning. He looks thoughtful for a moment. “I think I’d want kids,” he continues. “If It were with the right person.” His eyes are sparkling, and Vic knows what he means. 

“We’d make cute babies,” she says. “But later. We’d make cute babies, later.” 

Lucas grins. “We could always practice,” he says. 

Vic laughs. “Let’s get outta here.” She says in response.

-X-

**Day 51**

In retrospect, Victoria Hughes should’ve selected a different pregnancy test, but the Walgreens a block from her house had too many options. It was overwhelming, and the employee had asked if she needed help, and Vic had said yes. 

And now, she sits, staring at the pregnancy test in her hands, with the stupid little smiley face looking up at her. According to the key, she is pregnant. 

The other two tests in the box served to confirm. She is most certainly having a baby, and the very thought is terrifying. 

Her hands are shaking as she grabs her phone. Travis, she needs Travis. 

It’s a good thing he’s her most recent contact, because she finds his name with ease. 

He answers on the second ring. 

“Hello,” He says, his voice heavy with sleep. 

It takes Vic a moment to realize that Travis was sleeping. After all, it is one o’clock in the morning. 

“Can you come over?” She asks. 

“Yeah, Yeah,” Travis says. “Lemme get dressed and I’ll be over in a moment,” he says. 

“Okay,” Vic answers. She feels a pang of guilt for calling him so early, but the anxiety hits and everything feels overwhelming and suddenly her chest is constructed and she can’t breathe. 

She’s glad that Travis only lives five minutes away, because it’s impossible to breathe until she hears the lock turn and then moments later Travis is standing in the bathroom. 

“What’s wrong?” Travis asks. 

Vic points unceremoniously to the three pregnancy tests on the counter. 

“Oh,” Travis says. “Oh, Vic.” 

And Vic doesn’t know what to say. So, she starts crying again. Days ago, she thought that she had no tears left in her body. But now, she knows that she has so many more tears left to cry. 

Travis sits down next to her. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’ll be okay.” 

“Okay,” Vic whispers, and she believes him. It’s going to be okay. It has to be. She doesn’t want to know what she’s going to do if it isn’t. 

**Day 53**

Travis squeezes her hand as Vic settles onto the table. 

“Good morning,” a woman says as she walks through the door of the small office. She’s smiling warmly. “I’m Dr. Garrett,” she says. 

“Vic,” Vic says, shaking Dr. Garrett’s hand.

“I’m Travis,” Travis says. 

“Is this Dad?” Dr. Garrett asks. 

Vic swallows hard, and her eyes are welling up with tears. 

“I’m her best friend,” Travis says gently. He squeezes Vic’s hand tightly. “Her baby’s father died two weeks ago.” 

Vic is so sick of crying, but she can’t help it. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Dr. Garrett says. Her tone is soft and gentle, and then Vic is crying in earnest. 

Travis squeezes her hand again, and it takes Vic a moment to stop crying, but she does. The rest of the appointment goes smoothly, and Vic manages to hold it together until they begin the ultrasound. 

“Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” Dr. Garrett asks. 

Vic nods slowly. 

Dr. Garrett presses a button and a whooshing sound fills the room. 

“There’s your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Garrett says. 

Vic bursts into tears again, and Travis squeezes her hand. 

“One hundred thirty-seven beats per minute,” Dr. Garrett says. “You’ve got a very healthy sounding fetus. Would you like some ultrasound photos?” 

“Yes please,” Vic says. 

“I’m having a baby,” Vic says after a long moment. 

Travis grins at her. “You’re having a baby,” he says. 

 

 **Day 55**

It’s supposed to be her first day back to active duty. Lucas has been dead for three weeks, and Sullivan has forced her to take a break from active duty.

Vic didn’t realize she needed the break until she finally processed Lucas’s death, and then it hurt to breathe. It hurt to think about him, to see his clothes in the drawer, to see his shampoo, his toothbrush, his favorite coffee mug. 

And now, as she stands back in the office, she feels nothing but sheer terror. 

“You have to tell him,” Travis says gently. “You can’t be on ladder or engine. Smoke’s not good for the baby.” 

“I know,” Vic says. 

Travis grabs her hand and squeezes. “I’ll go with you,” he says. 

Vic smiles warmly. “Thank you,” she says. 

She knocks on the door of the office. 

“Come in,” Sullivan barks. 

Vic enters, and Sullivan’s face softens when he sees the two of them. Vic doesn’t want his pity, and yet, his concern feels warm. 

“Are you okay?” Sullivan asks gently. 

Vic’s entire body goes cold. She doesn’t know how to say it out loud. She can’t. Instead, she pulls her letter from her doctor. She’s read it over and over again. She knows exactly what it says. 

_To whom it may concern:_

_Victoria Hughes was seen in my office on Friday, May 10th. A pregnancy test was administered and the results were positive. Ms. Hughes is approximately seven weeks pregnant. Her due date is December 29th, 2019._

_Due to the adverse effects of high heat and strenuous activity on a healthy fetus, it is recommended that Ms. Hughes be removed from active duty until her pregnancy and maternity leave are over. Ms. Hughes can participate in training exercises but cannot lift any objects over 25 pounds and should not participate in any new or strenuous exercises._

_Please do not hesitate to reach out the you have any questions._

_Dr. Alisa Garrett, MD_  
Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology  
Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital 

Sullivan’s eyes are soft and wet when he looks up. 

“Hughes,” he says softly.

Travis squeezes Vic’s hand again. 

“Are you okay with being on Aid Car?” Sullivan asks. “If not, there are a few non active departmental positions reserved for injured ow pregnant firefighters. They’ll be at HQ, however.” 

Vic’s face falls. She can’t be at HQ, can’t face the new Chief and see him replace Lucas’s office. She can’t. 

“I’ll stay here,” Vic says quickly. “On Aid Car.” 

Sullivan gives her a soft smile. “I’ll make sure you’re rostered only on Aid Car,” He says. “You can wait to tell the team.” 

Vic nods. She’s not ready to tell them, not now. Not when she’s barely accepted the news herself, and not before she tells Jen. 

 

**Day 71**

The door swings open before she can knock, and the seven year old standing there scrutinizes her carefully. 

“Hi, Aunt Victoria,” Liam says happily, and Vic has to breathe deeply before she falls apart. 

The kids, Jen’s kids, had taken to her life a fish takes to water. They had called her Auntie Victoria from the start, no matter how many times Jen told them that it might make Vic uncomfortable. Vic didn’t mind, however, and now it feels like a comfort. 

“Hey, Liam,” Vic says, smiling warmly at the boy. He’s not wearing a shirt, just a pair of kid’s cargo pants, and he’s smiling warmly. “Where’s your mom?” Vic asks. 

Liam nods wordlessly, his long hair bouncing as he does so. 

“She’s trying to get Zoey dressed so we can go to Zoey’s dad’s house later,” Liam answers. “Mom told me to come answer the door. How are you?” Liam asks. His eyes are soft but scrutinizing. Liam might be only seven, but he’s kind and compassionate and perceptive.

“I feel sad,” Vic answers honestly, and that’s the most concise way to say it. 

“Me too,” Liam agrees. He and Vic step into the foyer. “I’ll go get mom,” Liam says, and he takes off down the hallway. 

Jennifer comes out a moment later. 

“Hey,” Jen says, smiling warmly. 

“Hey,” Vic replies. “Is this a good time?” She asks. “Liam said you were getting Zoey ready to go to her dad’s. I can come back at a later time and...” 

“Danny got held up at work and I can’t drop the kids off until five,” Jen says. “There was an emergency. We’re probably going to go to the park, though, if you want to walk with us.” 

The park sounds nice, and the fresh air will be a good distraction. 

Liam returns to the kitchen after a moment, wearing a shirt and shoes and holding Zoey’s hand. Although they’re siblings, Zoey and Liam look nothing alike. Liam has got dark hair and brown eyes and Zoey has light blue eyes and her hair is such a pale blonde it’s almost white. [Liam told her once that they looked different because, “They had the same mom but different dads.” (As it turns out, seven year olds have no qualms with telling all your business.)] 

Jen makes quick work of packing a bag. “You ready?” She asks, mostly speaking to the kids, but Vic finds herself nodding along. 

Once outside, the kids both grab their bikes and they begin the walk to the park. 

It’s only 3 blocks away, and one they arrive, the kids put their bikes on the bike rack and take off into the park. The park itself is nice. The walls around it are relatively high, and there’s only one way to exit, so Vic and Jen sit on the bench closest to the exit. 

Zoey and Liam take off and disappear into the park. 

“We needed to get out of the house,” Jen says. “It’s been hard. Zoey doesn’t quite get it yet. I think she understands now, but just barely. Liam’s been crying off an on. After Li’s dad walked out on us, Lucas really stepped up and became a father figure, at least until Zoey’s dad came along. Liam and Lucas used to have ‘guy time.’ Lucas would pick him up from school and they’d hang out and bond. It was good to have a break, especially after Zoey was born. They still did it pretty often. Liam took it pretty hard. I was hoping that spending some time with Dan would take his mind off of things.” 

Vic knows a little bit about Jen’s past relationships. She knows that Liam’s dad walked out on them when Liam was a few months old, and that Jen had later married Zoey’s dad, but they had ended up divorced when Zoey was two. (Apparently, Jen had said, Ripleys weren’t the best at relationships.) But Zoey’s dad had always treated Liam like his own son, and even now he still took custody of Liam on weekends. 

“How are you doing?” Jen asks. 

Vic has to breathe slowly to keep herself from bursting into tears. She found that she’s been chronically unable to say it. No matter how hard she tries. Instead, Vic reaches into her pocket and pulls out the copy of her ultrasound photo. 

She hands it to Jen. 

Jen gasps. 

“You’re... you’re pregnant?” She asks. 

Vic nods. “I’m about ten weeks now,” she says. 

“Oh, Vic,” Jen says softly. 

Vic’s eyes are leaking now. As it turns out, as long as there’s water in your body, you can still cry, and Vic has been crying off and on for months. 

Jen wraps an arm around Vic. “I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant with Liam,” Jen says. “Oh, Victoria, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.” 

Vic cries softly into Jen’s chest, knowing she’s probably getting tears and snot on Jen’s shirt, and Jen rubs soothing, gentle circles onto her back. 

“It’s going to be alright love,” Jen says gently. 

“I can’t do this,” Vic whispers. “I can’t do this without him. I can’t. I can’t.” She starts babbling incoherently, and Vic knows her words aren’t making any sense. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Victoria,” Jen says sharply after a moment. “You’ve got me and you’ve got Travis and you have your team. You have family by your side. You’re not in this alone. We’re not going to let you be alone. You’re not alone.”

 **Day 79**

She feels alone. The nights feel like they stretch indefinitely. Her bed feels so empty and she wonders how she ever managed to sleep alone before. 

She sleeps with his shirt at first. Because it’s nice and it smells like him, but eventually the smell wears off, and Vic’s heart breaks. 

Her bed feels so big and so empty and she ends up spending most of her nights on the couch, watching television so that there isn’t just silence. Of course, as her belly grows, it becomes increasingly more uncomfortable, and she knows she needs to move back into her bed at some point. 

She mentions this to Travis, and two days later, Travis comes to her apartment at 9pm with a full sized body pillow. 

“Come on,” he says gently. “It’s time for bed.” 

Vic has already settled in front of the television with her blanket, the tv playing some cooking show on Food Network. Vic has long since stopped watching. 

Vic complies meekly, and Travis smiles softly at her. 

Vic slides into bed, immediately curling up on _his_ side of the bed. It’s a cold comfort, but she doesn’t think she can bear the thought of the mattress wearing out, unbalanced. 

Travis gently places the full body pillow around her. 

“Stay with me,” Vic begs, because she still can’t bear the thought of sleeping in this giant bed alone for the first time in weeks. 

“Okay,” Travis says. He removes his shoes and gently gets into the other side of the bed. 

Vic grabs his hand and squeezes tight. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 **Day 85**

According to all the pregnancy websites, the best time to tell everyone about your pregnancy is after the twelve week check up. At that point, you’ve passed the highest risk of miscarriage.

Vic doesn’t know how to tell the team, and no one has had the guts to ask her why she’s only been on Aid Car since she came back. 

The team actually finds out while they’re out on a call. Bishop is driving aid car, and Vic’s hand immediately flies to her stomach when they hit a particularly hard bump. 

“When are you due?” The patient, Patricia, who is an elderly woman, who is now stable asks.

“I, how did you know?” Vic asks.

“I’ve had six babies of my own, and I delivered hundreds more, darling,” the patient says. “I can almost always tell. It’s like my super power.” 

Vic smiles softly, and her eyes catch Bishop’s in the rear view window. 

“I’m due at the end of this year,” Vic says. 

“Maybe you’ll have a Christmas baby,” the woman says warmly. “I’ve always believed that babies are the most precious gift.” 

Vic forced herself to smile. 

Patricia looks concerned. “Are you okay?” She asks. 

Vic wills the ride to be over sooner. She bites her lip. Patricia reaches over and squeezes Vic’s hand. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry, and I hope things are alright.”

And it’s something in Patricia’s eyes that makes Vic want to tell her everything. 

“My baby’s dad is dead,” Vic says. 

Patricia’s eyes are very soft now. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she says. 

She realizes now that it’s the first time that she’s said that sentence out loud, acknowledged that her baby’s dad is dead, that her child is never going to know their father. Of course, she’s known it for weeks, but feels entirely different to say it out loud. 

They arrive at Grey Sloan a moment later, and Vic squeezes Patricia’s hand before they cart her off. 

Bishop doesn’t say anything on the ride back. 

“You can ask,” Vic says. “If you want to.” 

“How long have you known?” Maya asks softly. 

“Seven weeks,” Vic replies. “I found out a few days before I came back to work.” 

“So you’re... three months, four months?” Maya asks. 

“I’m fourteen weeks,” Vic answers. 

“Congrats,” Maya says. 

And Vic realizes that it’s the first time that anyone has actually said that to her about her pregnancy. Most everyone else is focused on the fact that Vic is grieving, but this baby is a miracle, and Vic knows that. 

The baby is a miracle and a gift and a blessing. 

It is a good thing. 

She tells the rest of the team at dinner than afternoon. 

**Day 87**

“You’ve done this parenting thing, right?” Vic asks. 

Warren nods. “Yeah, I mean, Tuck was a toddler when Miranda and I first started dating.” 

“Do you have any advice?” Vic asks. 

Warren beams. “I mean, this sounds cliche, but time goes by so fast and it feels like you blink and miss everything. I mean, i clearly remember Tuck’s first day of kindergarten, and then I had to give him the talk a few weeks ago. He starts high school next year, and then there’s college. It’s just, he was so little, and now he’s not.”  
“I’m scared I’m going to mess them up,” Vic says. “I mean, they’ve already got the deck stacked against them because Lucas is gone, but I’m scared I’m going to screw them up more somehow.” 

“I don’t think I’ve met a single _good_ parent that wasn’t concerned that they were going to ruin their kid’s life,” Warren says. “It’s terrifying. I wonder everyday if I’m saying or doing the right thing with Tuck, but I know that I can’t be perfect and that Miranda and I do the best that we can, and it has to be enough.” 

Vic smiles at Warren. “Any other advice?” Vic asks. 

“If it’s a boy, duck when you’re changing diapers. They’re like a fire hydrant,” Warren suggests. 

Vic laughs. 

**Day 122**

The state of Washington requires a paternity affidavit for any child born out of wedlock. For a child with a deceased parent, the process becomes inextricably more complicated, and Vic’s heart breaks. 

It was Travis’s idea to ask the city of Seattle for a DNA sample. After all, Seattle’s firefighters have to submit DNA once a year. Most of the time, nothing is done with their DNA samples, but the samples can be used to quickly identify corpses in the case where a firefighter is unrecognizable. It’s grim and dark and Vic never put too much thought into why she had to submit her DNA every March. 

But now, everything feels so overwhelming and even with the paperwork and letter from the lawyer, she still feels overloaded. 

Frankel meets her at the door of the department. 

Frankel’s eyes drift unceremoniously to Vic’s stomach. She’s started to show: a combination of her already thin frame and the fact that she lost weight after Lucas died. She’s pretty much all baby, as Travis and Jen have both reminded her.

“How are you?” Frankel asks, her tone softer than Vic has ever heard. 

Vic doesn’t know how to respond. 

“The rest of the paperwork is in my office,” Frankel says. 

The two of them walk to Frankel’s office. 

“You’ll have to sign the paperwork for the request for the release of the DNA, and we can also get a head start on the paperwork for Ripley’s death benefits for the baby.” 

At Vic’s perplexed face, Frankel smiles softly. 

“You do realize that the baby is entitled to both Ripley’s death benefits and his social security pending the establishment of paternity, right?” Frankel asks. 

Vic swallows. She hadn’t realized. She had only wanted to put Lucas’s name on the birth certificate. She hadn’t realized that there was this... more. She didn’t want people to think that she was doing this because... because she wanted the money or something. She just wanted... 

“I don’t want it,” Vic says sharply. “I can do this. I don’t, I don’t need the money, I-“ 

“No one is going to think less of your for taking care of your kid, Hughes,” Frankel says. “That’s the whole point of this.”

“I don’t want money because be died,” Vic says. It feels dirty, and it feels wrong. And Vic. She’s doesn’t want it. She wants Lucas back. Her eyes well up with tears. “I don’t want money. I want him. I need him. I can’t do this.” And then she’s sobbing again. 

“Hughes,” Frankel says. 

“I don’t want it. I don’t want it. I don’t want the money,” Vic repeats, over and over again. 

“Hughes,” Frankel says, louder and clearer. “Hughes listen to me. Look at me. Look.” 

Vic finally forces herself to focus on Frankel. 

“I’m not going to lie. You got dealt a shitty hand here,” Frankel says. “You got dealt the shittiest hand there is, and I know that there’s no amount of money that will bring Ri-Lucas back, but I know that Lucas loved you, and he would’ve loved this baby, and I know that he would want to make sure that his kid is taken care of. That’s what this is for, and I know that’s cold comfort, that money is useless here because it hurts, and I’m sorry.” 

“I just,” Vic is back to crying, to trying to force air into her lungs. “I just, I want my baby to have their dad. I want them to...” Vic trails off. 

“My dad died before I was born,” Frankel says, and this... the display of vulnerability shocks Vic. “My mom used to tell me stories with I was really little. I don’t remember much of them. But my mom used to tell me stories about him. He was Scottish apparently, a first generation immigrant, and he had red hair and the thickest accent my mom had ever heard. And they were in love, very much so. She had so many stories, so many amazing stories about him and about them.” 

“Did she ever, did she ever?” Vic can hardly bring herself to ask the question. “Did she ever get over it?” 

Frankel’s features close up slightly at that. “She died when I was five,” Frankel says. “There was a Fire.” And Frankel leaves it at that. Vic knows not to push or pry. 

To Vic’s surprise, Frankel wraps her in a hug, and when Frankel pulls away, Vic notices the tears streaming down her face. 

Frankel wipes furiously at her eyes, and her expression closes completely off. “Let’s finish this paperwork, okay?” She says. “The Department drags their feet on things like this, so the sooner we get the requests in, the smoother the process.” 

“Okay,” Vic says tightly. And she picks up the pen.

**Day 124**

“Would you like to know the sex, Ms. Hughes?” The sonographer asks. 

Vic turns to Jen, who has a tight grip on Vic’s hand. 

“It’s your choice,” Jen says softly. 

“I know,” Vic says. “I- I think he would want it to be a surprise. He liked surprises because so much of his job was orderly and strict. And he liked surprises, good surprises.” Vic hiccups. 

“Alrighty then,” the sonographer says with a small smile. “We’ll see you in about 4 weeks for another check up. Make sure you’re eating healthy and contact myself or your primary care physician if you experience anything out of the ordinary.” 

The doctor leaves the room. 

“You’re right,” Jen says. “Lucas tried his best to convince me not to find out with Liam and Zoey. I couldn’t stand not knowing. He would’ve loved the surprise.” 

**Day 134**

She’s washing dishes when it happens, and the shock of it all causes her to drop the plate she was washing. She’s grateful it’s plastic because it clatters to the ground instead of shattering. 

The baby is moving. They’re moving. 

Vic bursts into tears. It feels like butterflies. 

**Day 155**

All the best pregnancy websites say to talk to the baby, so that’s what Vic does on the nights she can’t sleep. She talks to the baby for hours. She tells them stories about Lucas, about how they met, about their place, about smoke jumping, about their lazy days in bed together. 

She talks and she talks and she talks. And the baby kicks and moves and Vic knows that the baby is listening that he or she is going to know their dad, even if their dad never gets the chance to hold them. 

And it will have to be enough.

**Day 159**

“What was it like growing up without your mom?” Vic asks. She’s been curious about it for days now, and Vic wants as much advice as she can get. 

“It wasn’t easy,” Andy replies. She takes a bite of her ice cream. “She died when I was nine, so I at least got to spend some time with her. It hurt a lot at first, and then it got easier, but grief is like a ball in a box.” 

Vic stares at her, perplexed. 

Andy grabs a napkin from the napkin holder and she draws a box with a large ball inside. In the corner, she draws a small rectangle and then labels it, ‘pain button.’ ”“In the beginning, the ball is huge,” Andy explains. “You can’t move the box without the ball hitting the pain button. It rattles around on its own in there and hits the button over and over. You can’t control it – it just keeps hurting.”

“Over time, the ball gets smaller,” Andy continues, drawing another box, this time with a smaller ball. “It hits the button less and less but when it does, it hurts just as much. It’s better because you can function day to day more easily. But the downside is that the ball randomly hits that button when you least expect it. And the ball never really goes away. Eventually, it’s almost unnoticeable, but sometimes it still hits it, and it still hurts. That’s what it felt like without my mom.” 

Vic bites her lip. She’s all cried out, she’s decided. She has to focus on the fact that she’s going to be bringing new life into the world in just a few short months. 

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now,” Andy says, but it gets better. “Eventually, your baby will learn to cope, and they’ll learn to live with it, and eventually your own ball will get smaller.” 

“Thank you, Andy,” Vic says. “Thank you.” 

Andy smiles. “Hey,” she says. “It’s what you’ve got family for.”

 **Day 139**

“How are you?” Sullivan asks one day. Vic is sitting at the front desk, benched from calls because of a particularly nasty headache. 

“Exhausted,” Vic answers honestly. 

“I’m sorry,” Sullivan says. 

“You and Lucas were close, right?” Vic asks. 

“We were,” Sullivan agrees. “We went to the Academy together, but we had a falling out almost sixteen years ago.” 

“Lucas told me you guys used to be friends,” Vic said. “He never said why you two stopped. He said it wasn’t his story to tell.”

Sullivan inhales sharply. “Do you want to know what happened?” He asks. 

Vic shakes her head. “Tell me what he was like in the Academy,” she says instead. 

Sullivan grins. “Rip was kinda reckless when we first started out…” he begins

And that’s how Vic learns about what Lucas was like before he was Chief Ripley.

**Day 177**

“How are you doing?” Jack asks. 

“I really wish people would stop asking me this,” Vic replies. “I’m doing better, though.” 

Jack smiles. “I know it was hard for me, with my PTSD, and I can’t, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.” 

“I’m making it,” Vic says. “Just taking things day by day.” 

“I was a foster kid,” Jack says. “And when you’re in the system, you go to court a lot,” he continues. “And every time you go to court, you get a court bear. They all look different, which was the best part. I remember the bears being one of the only constants in my life.” 

Vic isn’t sure where this is going. 

“I’m learning how to sew because my therapist says I need a hobby,” Jack continues. “I asked RIpley’s sister if she had any old t-shirts of his, and she said she had a couple from his days at 88.” Jack pauses. Then he opens the bag he was holding. “It’s not perfect,” he says, and then he pulls out a beautiful teddy bear. “I found the pattern for a memory bear online, that way your baby always has a part of their dad to carry with them.” 

“Jack,” Vic says, wrapping her arms around him in a huge hug. “Jack, thank you, thank you.” 

Jack hugs back. “This is what family is for.”

 **Day 181**

She has a panic attack in the turnout room. One moment, she’s fine, and the next moment, it feels impossible to breathe. Travis is out with the stomach bug, and both the ladder and engine are out on calls. It’s only Vic and Dean in the station. 

And Vic can’t breathe. 

“Are you, are you okay?” Dean asks. 

Vic shakes her head. “I just, I-, I can’t-” She can’t explain why she’s panicking. She can’t. It hurts to force air into her lungs. 

Dean sits down next to her. “Vic,” he says, and it feels like he’s so far away. 

“Vic,” he repeats. 

“The teapot,” Vic breathes out. 

Dean seems perplexed for a moment. 

“Teapot song,” Vic clarifies. 

It takes Dean a moment, but he begins to sing. And even though his voice is deep, it sounds nice, and it’s calming. 

She manages to sing it with him the third time around, and by the rest of the team gets back, she and Dean are sitting in the turnout room, singing just about every lullaby they know. 

No one says anything about it. In fact, the rest of them join in, and Vic smiles widely at her entire team singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

 **Day 231**

The baby shower is Travis’s idea. He promises that there won’t be any stupid games, and that it’ll be a short and simply affair. 

There’s only a handful of guests: Station 19, Jen, Liam, Zoey, and a couple of the top brass from HQ. 

True to his word, there’s not a lot of games, and it’s mostly just talking and chatting. Vic lets everyone who asks touch her stomach, even though she’s usually extremely protective of it. 

Vic manages not to cry for most. But she does dissolve into a puddle of tears at the last gift, which is a scrapbook. It’s filled with pictures of Lucas, and every single party guest has written a story about their favorite memory with Lucas. 

Vic sobs as her fingers slowly trace the cover. It’s beautiful, and Vic knows from looking around the room that her baby is going to be very, very loved.

**Day 277**

She goes into labor on Christmas Eve. She’s over at Jen’s house and Liam and Zoey have just gone to bed after putting out cookies for Santa. 

Vic tries not to panic as she very calmly tells Jen that she’s definitely in labor and the contraction she feels are most definitely not Braxton Hicks. Jen does panic, and she calls Zoey’s dad to come watch the kids while she takes Vic to the hospital. Daniel arrives a half hour later, and Vic and Jen head to the hospital. 

Day 278 

Labor is beyond brutal. Jen and Travis take turns holding her hand. She refuses an epidural because she’s spent so much of the last 220 days feeling numb. She needs something to focus on, even if it’s pain. 

She starts sobbing halfway through, and Travis rubs her back as Vic pleads for Lucas. Jen heads home around 10 o’clock in the morning, because Daniel has work, and she brings the kids back and they wait in the waiting room. 

The rest of 19 comes by, and Vic kicks our everyone except for Andy, Travis, and Maya. They take turns coaxing her through contractions and they keep her occupied by telling stories about the fires they’ve fought and the patients they’ve had in the two weeks that vic’s been on maternity leave. 

It helps, they all help. 

When it comes time to push, Vic is so exhausted that she doesn’t think she can keep going. 

It’s only Travis’s calm and reassuring voice that helps her to breathe through each wave of pain, but it still feels like forever before a soft cry fills there room. 

“It’s a girl,” the doctor calls out. 

“A girl,” Travis says brightly. “You have a little girl.”

The baby is the most beautiful person that Vic has ever seen, and it takes her breath away. They wrap the baby up and place her gently on Vic’s chest, and Vic sobs as she catches sight of the baby. 

Only a few minutes old, and it’s abundantly clear that this baby is going to look like Lucas. She can tell by her noise and the shape of her eyes. She has Vic’s hair though. It’s black and curly and perfect.

She smiles. “Lucas,” she whispers. “We have the most beautiful, perfect little girl.”

**Day 278**

Filling out the birth certificate becomes a challenge. Everyone has suggestions for a name, but none of them fit as well as Jen’s quiet suggestion. 

“Aurora,” Jen says as she stares at her niece. “Lucas name meant light, and Aurora means Dawn. You could call her Rory.” 

Vic loves it. She loves that it’s close to the meaning of Lucas’s name and that it means dawn because the baby feels like the sun after the longest, darkest night. 

Her middle name is easier to decide. Alexandria. As it turns out, Jennifer’s middle name is Alexandria, and Vic already knew that Travis’s middle name is Alexander. It seems right to honor both her family and Lucas’s family with their daughter’s middle name. 

Vic snuggles Rory to her chest later that night. “You’re beautiful,” she says. “You know, your daddy was the best man I’ve ever known. He was the love of my life, and he gave me 8 incredible months, and then he gave me you. And I bet he would’ve loved to meet you, Aurora Alexandria. You’ve got a big name, but you’ll grow into it, Rory. Your dad would’ve been smitten with you. Cuz you’re pretty lovable. He’s,” Vic’s voice cracks. “I don’t know if I believe in heaven,” she says. “But I think your daddy’s watching out for you, and he’s sad he can’t be there for you, but he also knows you’ve got so many uncles and aunts who love you, and you’ve got an entire station and all of the top brass rooting for you. And, oh, my Rory Girl, you are going to be so loved. You are so loved.”

 **Day 8,516**

“Ripley!” A voice calls out. 

Rory looks up, making eye contact with her captain. She had asked that her uncle not treat her any differently from the other new recruits, but Uncle Travis had always had a soft spot for her, and Rory knew that Travis was going to do his damndest to look out for her. Mom asked him to, and Uncle Travis keeps his promises. 

She and mom has fought for weeks about Rory wanted to become a firefighter. Mom didn’t want her to, and Rory understood why. She couldn’t bear to lose her child to the same thing that she lost the love of her life too, but Rory could explain why she felt so drawn to fire, and even though she had majored in engineering in college, nothing compelled her so much as firefighting did. 

Mom hadn’t been happy, and Rory was angry that her mom was angry. After all, her mom still ran into fires everyday, and it seemed hypocritical for her to be angry that Rory wanted to do the same. 

Finally, Uncle Travis has forced the two of them to sit down and talk out their feelings. And they both ended up crying, a lot. Rory wanted to follow in the footsteps of her parents, especially her dad, and Mom finally admitted that it was unfair of her to hold Rory back. Rory applied for the fire academy the next day, and mom had pretty much cried the entire time at graduation, but not more than when she pinned Rory’s badge onto her.

“Welcome to the team,” Uncle Travis, no, Captain Montgomery says with a grin.

Rory grins back easily. She’s never felt more comfortable than she does in a fire station, her dad’s station, station 88. It feels like home. 

**Day 8,517**

“How was your first day?” Mom asks, and Rory can’t say she’s surprised to see Mom in her apartment. 

“Exhausting,” Rory answers. She drops her backpack on the ground. Then, she washes her hands, walks to the pantry, and grabs a jar of peanut butter. 

Mom laughs. 

“What?” Rory asks. 

“Your dad would do that,” Mom says. “After every shift, he’d come home and eat peanut butter right out of the jar, whether I was cooking something or not. Something about craving protein.” Mom grins. “Did you have fun?” She asks. 

Rory nods. “It was incredible, Mom, absolutely wonderful.” 

Mom smiles. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

Rory smiles warmly. “Thank you for letting me do this,” she says. She wraps her Mom into a tight hug. “I know you’re scared, but it almost felt like I had to.” 

Mom smiles brightly. “You’re going to be an incredible firefighter, Rory. I know you will be, and I’m glad that you are. I’m proud of you, Rory, and I absolutely know your dad would’ve been to.” 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to twitter for that incredible description of grief that Andy uses. Please let me know if there's any glaring mistakes, and I'll try to fix them during my study breaks. I hope you all enjoyed this. It broke my heart to write it.


End file.
